


fuck, i’m jealous

by CookieMonstersRUs



Series: fuck, I love you, I love you [6]
Category: The Boys (TV 2019)
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, And yet, Bad Flirting, Blow Jobs, Car Sex, Dom/sub, Dominance, Drinking, Emotional, FUCK, Fucking, Hand Job, Hughie Campbell/OMCs (mentioned past), Jealousy, Lube, M/M, Miscommunication, Oral Sex, Past-Dubious Consent, Pre-Established Relationship, Public Sex, Semi Public Sex, Submission, You know I had to do it to the boys, as in no relationship, but not with butcher, clubs, maybe not, past ignored safeword
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 05:50:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20253187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CookieMonstersRUs/pseuds/CookieMonstersRUs
Summary: Who knew the boys could get so jealous?





	fuck, i’m jealous

When Butcher asked him to meet him at a diner, that was when Hughie knew there was trouble. It was the end. Butcher had finally tired of Hughie’s ass and was ready to move on. Was it customary to end things with fuck-buddies in person? Hughie almost wished Butcher would’ve sent the  _ thanks, mate, but i got better fish to fry _ text instead of having them do this in person. There was nothing else to Butcher’s text but a time and place. No answer when Hughie tried to call too. 

So here Hughie was, sitting at a booth in a cheesy sixties themed diner, wearing his most comforting jacket and hoping to god this let down wouldn’t throw Hughie in the fucking blender. He knew he was finally starting to get over Robin. It had been months and Butcher was the best distraction, perfect for Hughie in every way. And if he had to be honest with himself, really look at those squishy little feelings stuck inside of him, he could admit that he liked Butcher. More than liked Butcher, wanted Butcher. Not just for the sex, but for the other. Even if Hughie still lived with his dad and even if Butcher was a scary P.I. and even if they both had their hangups. Hughie wanted Butcher in a way that wasn’t limited to their fucking, even if it was amazing fucking at that.

But they’d never really been involved, so Hughie’s hopes and dreams weren’t too invested in Butcher, just the potential of it all, brewing at the edge of their interactions, teasing at a better future, a better  _ thing _ between the two of them. But they hadn’t taken a leap over that ledge, so Hughie could be okay, would be okay, when Butcher broke up with him. Ended things with him. They weren’t dating, just fucking. Keep it straight, Hughie. 

Butcher sauntered into the diner with his usual flare, wearing his usual leather coat and floral button up. He sat down across Hughie and got two coffees from their pretty waitress. When she left, Butcher’s eyes trailed after her legs for a moment before turning to Hughie.

“So I’ve got a job for you,” Butcher told him.

Hughie let out a breath of relief. Their whole I-didn’t-order-Chinese-for- _ you _ -Hughie debacle had been a week ago. Sure, they’d fucked since then, but Hughie had still worried, still wondered if that was going to be the tip that pushed them over the ledge.

“A job? What kind of job?”

“One I think you’re much better suited for than me, alright?” Butcher said, which meant nothing really. “It’s surveillance.”

“Okay...is your tech guy sick again or something?”

“Sure.” Butcher shrugged. “I need you to meet me at Noir nightclub at ten tonight.”

“Noir?” Hughie blinked. Where had he heard that name before?

“Do you need me to bring anything…? Or?”

“Skinny jeans, ripped if you can.”

“For me or for you?” 

Butcher raised a brow. “Mate, I stopped wearing those when I turned thirty. Wear ‘em unless you want me to rip up your pants for you.” Hughie blinked. From both the image of Butcher in skinny jeans and the idea of Butcher taking a knife and tearing his pants for him. Hughie did not have a thing for knives but the idea of Butcher taking the time to dirty Hughie himself…

The waitress came back with their coffees. She was a pretty girl with short brown hair and killer eyes, smudged with black eyeliner. The lip gloss she wore twinkled even in the dim diner. She leaned against the table with her hip, looking down at Butcher and giggling slightly. Butcher leaned back in the booth and watched her put down their coffees. Hughie watched them and he felt Butcher’s legs spread out underneath the table.

“Is there  _ anything _ else I can get you?” the girl asked. Her back was turned to Hughie, so he only saw the black skirt she was wearing, and not whatever revealing top she had on. Butcher’s eyes had gone dark, predatory. Hughie was familiar with the look and shook his head, sitting up in the booth.

“Why yes, yes you can,” Butcher said, voice dropping into a more polite British ramble. The waitress giggled.

“I like your accent,” she said.

“Well, I like yours.”

She laughed.

Hughie rolled his eyes.

“Listen, I was thinking…”

“I like the sound of that.”

Butcher chuckled. It was that low rumbly chuckle, the one Hughie was more than familiar with. “Tell me, which is better: an English breakfast or the American one?”

“Doesn’t the English one come with more meat?” she asked, pseudo-innocence in her voice.

“That’s ‘cause us Englishmen do too.”

Hughie almost choked. Butcher wasn’t wrong, but was that  _ really  _ his pick-up line. It seemed to work on the waitress because she laughed, sweetness in the air. 

“English it is,” she said, writing it down.

“English it is,” he replied, looking her in the eyes. The two held each other’s gaze for a long moment before the waitress remembered herself and turned around to look at Hughie.

“And for you?” She wasn’t even looking at Hughie, staring down at her little notebook instead. 

Hughie cleared his throat and smiled. “Thanks, but I was just leaving.” Hughie got up immediately after that, already gone. 

Butcher turned around in the booth and tried to yell. “Oi, Hughie! Where you goin’?”

Hughie didn’t reply, waving him off, and exiting the diner door into the cool morning air. Hughie sucked in a deep breath and burrowed his hands into his jacket. He made a left and headed towards the metro, thinking of were a good bakery would be.

* * *

When Hughie got to Noir that night, he remembered why he recognized the name. In college, when Hughie was still trying to figure out if he was gay or straight or somewhere in between, he found himself at Noir, pressed between all sorts of men, leaning against back alley walls, and on his knees in bathrooms. Hughie hadn’t been as smart then. Noir had a BDSM inner community, which wouldn’t be so bad if the doms there actually listened to safe words. It took Hughie years to relearn his shit after one dom too many tried to choke him without his permission. But he was here now and so was Butcher, standing just outside the line in his most leather-centric outfit yet.

Hughie was glad all he had to do was surveillance.

Butcher waved him over and gave Hughie a look-over. “Where'd you pop off to?” he asked. “You missed the tart.”

Hughie rolled his eyes. “Work.”

“Yeah, alright.” Butcher reached out and unbuttoned some of Hughie’s shirt, too low for it to be natural. Then he ran his hands through Hughie’s hair, mussing it up.

Hughie batted him away. “What are you doing?”

“Makin’ you twinky.”

“Why would you need to do that?” Hughie smoothed his hair back down. Butcher undid another button. Hughie shivered against the cold. The line next to Noir was long and full of gays. Twinks, twunks, bears, you name it, it was there. Some of them wore their chest harnesses, others wore normal clothes like Hughie. Plenty of guys were giving Hughie grateful looks as Butcher unveiled his skin, and plenty more were eyeing Butcher himself. 

“So we can get in, mate, wasn’t it obvious?”

“Get in?” Hughie slapped Butcher’s fingers away after he tried to tweak a nipple. “Butcher, I’m not going in there.”

“What? You scared of the gay scene? I promise, they won’t bite unless you ask ‘em to.” Butcher winked and manhandled Hughie to the front of the line, much to his and the other gays’ despair. Before Hughie could speak, Butcher had pulled out a gold card--Hughie remembered they were member cards from back in the day--and handed it to the bouncer. Butcher slung an arm around Hughie and grinned at the bouncer. “He’s with me.”

The bouncer let them in. 

Hughie elbowed him once they got through the door, ducking out from his arm and trying to leave just as fast. Butcher snatched him by the shirt and hauled him further into the club. “Butcher, I don’t want to be here.”

“Why, you’re a poofter aren’t ya? Should fit right in.”

“No, Butcher, I mean I can’t be  _ here _ . I’ve been to Noir before.”

“Perfect, then you know just where to look.” Butcher led him over to the bar. Noir was set up so the bar was at the far side of the big room. Butcher and Hughie had to move through grinding men, dancing to club music and getting high under neon lights. The bar was a sight for sore eyes for Hughie. Butcher got Hughie to the end and signaled the bartender for two drinks. Butcher settled against the counter and stared out into the sea of gays. “We’re lookin’ for a guy, calls himself Translucent.”

“Translucent?” Hughie squinted. “What is he? A superhero?”

“Worse, an IRS agent.” Butcher downed his shot of vodka and cleared his throat. “I’ve got a client, works in the State Department. Got his dick wet here and Translucent’s got the photos. Nasty bugger likes to hide in plain sight and watch others get off. Then black mails them when they’re done.”

“So? It’s 2019.” Hughie swished his shot and wondered if taking it would be a good idea. “Gay people can work in the government.”

“My client’s got a wife and two kids.”

Hughie frowned. “Why are you even helping this guy then? He’s a liar and a cheat. Let him rot.” Hughie took his shot and let the burn of vodka remind him of all that was bad in the world.

“He promised me intel, shit I can’t get anywhere else.”

“So what the fuck do you need me for? You clearly got in. Now you just need to find him. You can do that yourself.” Hughie stepped away from the bar. Butcher grabbed him by the elbow and pulled Hughie towards him, tethering him to Butcher.

“I need an extra set of eyes, Hughie. Translucent’s a slippery bastard.”

“And you couldn’t get anyone else to do this?”

“No one else looks half as gay as you, mate.”

Hughie sighed and settled into Butcher’s grip. “Who am I looking for?”

“Slimey git. Tall, brunet, heavy eyes, white bitch. Could be anyone here.”

“Wow, that’s helpful. Got anything else?”

“Bit of a nudist, so he’ll be the one wearing as little as possible.”

“Great,” Hughie said then ordered another drink. Time to spot a perv. It was like Where’s Waldo but worse. Gross and slimey. Hughie almost didn’t want to find this Translucent asshole. The songs in Noir were as poppy and electronic as always. Hughie wouldn’t be able to listen to Tove Lo ever again without thinking about Noir. Classic Noir, twisting plenty of great things into something darker. The bartender handed him a mix drink and Hughie swallowed a quarter of it before relaxing. He rolled up his sleeves, feeling warm surrounded by everyone.

Butcher watched him do all this, nursing a whiskey and giving Hughie a considering look. He nodded at the crowd. “Why’re your knickers in a twist?” he asked. “Did something happen here, Hughie?”

Hughie’s eyes were glued to the masses of bodies. Naked man. Creepy dude. Translucent. Hughie didn’t answer the question. If Butcher wouldn’t listen to him before they got here, then why would he now? “So did you ever get that girl’s number?” he said instead.

“What?” Butcher said, which sounded more like ‘wot’ if Hughie was going to be honest. Fucking brits. “That’s none of your fucking business.”

“Okay, so why do you want to know my history here?” 

“Why’re you acting like a twat?”

“Why do you wanna know things if we’re not together?” Hughie already regretted asking it. He could blame it on the alcohol. He would blame it on the alcohol. Hughie already knew he was a fucking idiot, but that didn’t mean he needed more proof of that. What the fuck was he even saying to Butcher?

“I’m curious,” Butcher said. The two of them were searching for something in Noir. For a man, for a good time, for a drink to dull memory, for answers to questions neither wanted to ask. “What’s wrong with Noir?”

“Their bathrooms are small,” Hughie said, flippant. “I’m curious too. Are you going to see her again?” 

Butcher turned to look at Hughie; Hughie kept his eyes peeled for Translucent. It was better this way, to not look at Butcher. “Are you jealous?” Butcher asked, voice betraying humor. He thought this was funny. Butcher thought Hughie was being a silly ‘twat.’ Fuck that.

“No, I’m not jealous.” Hughie stared Butcher in the eyes as he spoke, resolve returning, “I just need to know if this thing between us is ending.”

“There isn’t anything between us,” Butcher told him.

Hughie looked away. “Okay, well.” There was a man in the crowd. Hughie’s eyes crossed with his dark ones for just a moment. “That’s great then.”

“Fine.”

“Good.”

“Great, even,” Butcher said. 

Things were getting awkward.

Hughie pointed across the room to a man in a sparkly speedo. “Your guy just came out of the bathrooms.”

“Shit.” Butcher downed the rest of his whiskey, slamming his glass into the bar. He pointed at Hughie. “Don’t go anywhere without me.” Then left before Hughie could say anything else.

Hughie drank. Butcher disappeared into the crowd. Fuck that. Hughie turned around and leaned against the bar, back away from the crowd. Fuck this. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Hughie needed more drinks. He needed to get away from all this. Fucking Butcher. Where did he get off telling Hughie there wasn’t something between them? You don’t fuck a person for months and still claim it’s  _ nothing _ . Sure, they didn’t go on dates and neither knew much about the other, but there was a thing between the two of them, an inescapable feeling of right. And Butcher wanted to say fuck that? Hughie hadn’t been with anyone else since fucking around with Butcher, he didn’t need to. Was it the same for Butcher? Or was Butcher picking up waitresses, clients, lonely boys while Hughie was off doing god knows what? 

It was nothing to him, was that it? Absolutely nothing? Why should Hughie be surprised? Hughie was just a hole to fuck and a tool to use.  _ You know that’s not true _ , he thought. Still, it was clear to Hughie that Butcher thought nothing of them.

Hughie ran a hand through his hair, trying to clear his thoughts. His elbow came down on the bar and Hughie followed the motion of his hand, head tilting to the side. His eyes followed the movement and landed on the person next to him.

It was another guy. He was wearing a green v-neck. He had a beard and brown hair, but both were much shorter than Butcher’s. Did Hughie have a type? He looked like a twink, but was probably more of a twunk or otter or whatever the fucking terminology was. Hughie didn’t really care because the guy gave Hughie the nod. 

“Sup.”

Hughie looked around, making sure this dude was talking to him. When he realized the stranger was talking to him, Hughie cleared his throat. “Uh, hi?”

“I’m Kevin.”

“Hughie.”

Kevin was trying to act cool, reserved, not eager. He was probably a top, but not one that was self-assured. Butcher always knew what he was doing. Butcher had confidence. Hughie needed to stop comparing the two, Jesus Christ. Not everyone was Butcher, and that was good, Hughie, relax.

“You here with anyone?”

More or less. Hughie shook his head. “No. You?”

“Nah, keeping my options open, you know?” Kevin shrugged. Hughie did.

Hughie looked down at the rest of his drink. He wasn’t going to be able to chug it all, but he sure was going to try. He got four gulps down before he stopped. He looked at Kevin, who stayed there like an obedient puppy. Hughie rolled his eyes. No confidence. But Kevin was here and Butcher wasn’t, and clearly Butcher could fuck anyone he wanted, so why couldn’t Hughie? “You wanna go to the bathrooms?”

“Nah, I don’t need to piss.” 

Hughie already regretted this. “I meant to fuck.”

“Oh,” Kevin blinked, reassessing himself. He stared at Hughie’s ass when he answered, “Yeah, totally. Yeah.”

Hughie slammed his glass on the counter and grabbed Kevin by the arm, dragging him through the crowd. Kevin was babbling on about how he didn’t do this often and how he wasn’t really gay, so don’t get any ideas, which Hughie took to mean  _ I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, but I like to fuck so… _ Hughie didn’t care. Kevin was a distraction, just like Butcher was a distraction. Hughie just hoped Kevin would be as good of a distraction.

Hughie didn’t see Butcher on his way to the bathrooms, which he was grateful for. Kevin was probably going to blow his load in two minutes tops, but Hughie didn’t care.

They got into the bathroom and Hughie didn’t even bother locking the door behind them. At Noir, fucking happened all over the place, even on the dancefloor. It was the norm to walk in on two guys going at it, so there was no point in getting fussy about it. Kevin didn’t seem all too familiar with this fact, getting touchy when Hughie had him pressed against the sink counter and another dude came out of the stall to wash his hands. He tried to push Hughie away, staring at the other dude.

Hughie rolled his eyes. “Listen, Kevin--Kevin, right? No one gives a shit if you’re gay. Now do you want to do this or not?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Kevin closed his eyes and puckered his lips. Hughie leaned in and made out with him. Kevin’s lips were different than Butcher’s. Kevin’s beard was different than Butcher’s. Fuck, Hughie, stop it. 

It wasn’t lost on Hughie that he was repeating old scenes. Butcher had written the script, now it was time for Hughie to act it out. Hughie unbuckled Kevin’s belt as they kissed. Kevin had a six-pack, was sculpted in a way Butcher wasn’t. Butcher was thick, strong, but effortlessly so. Hughie pulled Kevin’s pants down, his cock springing free. Kevin’s cock was much smaller than Butcher’s. Hughie could easily fit it in his mouth, so he was going to.

Hughie bit Kevin’s bottom lip, tugging it slightly to catch his attention. Kevin’s eyes, which had been closed, parted slightly. He watched as Hughie let him go, hands falling on Kevin’s hips. Kevin stilled as Hughie dropped to his knees in one slow movement. 

Someone came into the bathroom. Hughie ignored it.

Hughie peered up at Kevin, licking his bottom lip, getting it wet. Kevin’s mouth dropped. Hughie leaned forward, kissing the head of his dick. He teased his tongue at the slit. Kevin’s hips thrusted forward, but Hughie stopped him with his hands. Hughie leaned towards the base of Kevin’s dick then licked a line up to the tip in one long motion. Kevin moaned, eyes falling shut, abs flexing, hands going up to his own head. Hughie laughed softly and opened his mouth to put it around Kevin’s cock.

That’s when someone grabbed the collar of the back of his shirt and tugged. Hughie’s ass fell onto the floor, unsettled. Kevin’s eyes popped open. “Get the fuck off him,” a familiar voice growled. Hughie stared up at Butcher’s towering form, which leaned dangerously over Kevin. 

Kevin’s dick fell between his legs. “Hey man--”

Butcher curled his fist around Kevin’s green shirt, hauling him close. “Don’t you ever fucking go near him or you’ll never get off again,” Butcher threatened.

“Hey man, I thought you weren’t with anybody!” Kevin shouted at Hughie.

Hughie got to his feet, glaring at Butcher and wiping dirt off his knees. “I’m not. We’re not together.”

Kevin struggled to pull his pants up with Butcher still in his space. Hughie got it; Butcher was threatening.

“Hughie, we’re leaving,” Butcher told him.

He rolled his eyes. “Like fuck I am. I was about to get off with him.”

“If you wanted to get your face-fucked, I could’ve done it myself.”

“Listen man, I’m out of here.” Kevin raised his hands in surrender, trying to maneuver out of Butcher’s space. 

Butcher jabbed a finger at him. “If I ever see you with him again, you won’t be able to walk.”

Kevin gulped and nodded. Butcher pushed him. Kevin scrambled for the door. That left the two of them alone. Butcher was clearly angry. So was Hughie.

“What did you do that for?” Hughie demanded. He waved at the door. “I was busy.”

Butcher snorted. “C’mon, let’s go.” He went to grab Hughie, but Hughie shrugged him off.

“No! I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Hughie, c’mon.”

Hughie shook his head. “No, I’m going. But not with you.” He left the bathroom. Butcher followed him out, shouting through the crowd,

“What? You goin’ to leave with one of these other fags?”

“And what? You think you’re better than them?” Hughie shook his head, furious. Fuck Butcher. “You had no right. No fucking right to do that.”

“I told you to stay at the bar.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault?” Hughie roared, spinning around to face Butcher. They were still in the crowd. Men brushed up against them, forcing them to sway into each other. Hughie glared at him in the neon lights. “It’s my fault you ruined my hook-up?”

“If you wanted to fuck, you should’ve just come to me.”

“And what if I wanted it to mean something this time? Huh?”

“You thought that that back there with Peter Pan meant something?”

“I don’t know!” Hughie shouted. “Maybe! It could’ve been.” Hughie turned around and stalked towards the club exit. Butcher followed after him.

“Hughie,” Butcher called. Hughie ignored him. He walked past the line by the door, headed down the road. “Hughie!” Butcher grabbed him and pulled him into the alley.

“Get the fuck off of me!” Hughie growled, stomping at Butcher’s feet. 

Butcher manhandled him up against the hood of a car. Hughie struggled the entire time. He got a hand free and tried to slap Butcher, but he grabbed Hughie’s hand mid-air and held it at his side. They were flushed against each other. Hughie glared at Butcher, absolutely livid. Fuck this. Fuck Butcher.

“Fuck you,” he snarled.

“Yeah?” Butcher laughed. “Maybe some other time.”

Hughie rolled his eyes. “I mean it. Fuck you, Butcher. Get the fuck off of me.”

“No, I don’t think I will.” Butcher’s voice was soft, teasing. He brushed Hughie’s hair away from his forehead. “I don’t think I will.”

“Fuck you,” Hughie said, voice desperate. Then he kissed Butcher. 

More like bit him. Butcher kissed him just as fiercely. And then they were going at it against the hood of someone’s car, acting like teenagers with no finesse. Hughie lost himself in Butcher’s kisses. He wasn’t any less angry, but driven this time, tongues battling for dominance. Butcher was flushed against him. Hughie melted in their embrace, surrounded, completely surrounded by all things Butcher. Fucking hell. They kissed and bit and sucked and clawed at one another like two hungry hyenas desperate for attention. Hughie never got hard while with Kevin. With Butcher, he was already aching for it.

Butcher reached inside one of his pockets, other hand gripped tight in Hughie’s hair, keeping him locked against his lips, and pulled out a set of keys. The car underneath him beeped. Hughie jolted at the sensation. Butcher chuckled and reached around to open the backseat. Jesus they really were going to act like teenagers.

Butcher unbuckled Hughie’s belt and dragged him over to the back. Hughie pulled his shoes off and threw them somewhere in the car, pulling down his pants and boxers before he even got in. The leather scraped against the back of his thighs, but Hughie didn’t care; he was hard as fuck and he wanted Butcher inside of him now. Butcher got in after him, pants undone and dick already out. He closed the door behind him and fuck, the car really wasn’t big enough for two grown adults to try and fuck back here. Butcher settled on top of Hughie and Hughie wrapped his legs around his hips just as Butcher’s lips settled on his neck. Butcher reached into a backseat compartment and pulled out a familiar tube.

“Why the fuck do you keep lube in your car?”

“That Hughie,” Butcher said, moving away from his neck, “is for when I come across naughty bastards such as yourself and need to put them in their fucking place.”

“Jesus Christ,” Hughie’s head landed against the window, eyes closing, “your fucking mouth. It’s so fucking stupid. Just fuck me already.”

“Darling, I plan to.” Butcher uncapped the bottle of lube and slicked up a finger, reaching down to tease at his rim until he slid it in. Butcher fucked him steadily with one finger, then two, stretching and scissoring Hughie so he’d be stretched out, stretched for cock, stretched for Butcher. Hughie couldn’t do much else but ride Butcher’s fingers and wrap his legs tighter around his hips. Hughie’s hands clawed at Butcher’s back, but the leather was no place to grab onto. Fuck, Hughie’s ass hugged Butcher’s fingers, greedy for his fingers, greedy for more

Butcher’s mouth scraped along Hughie’s jaw, making him keen. “After that stunt you pulled earlier,” he whispered, “I should really punish you, princess.” He was three fingers deep into Hughie by now, teasing at a fourth. Hughie was full, so fucking full, but he didn’t want to be full of his fingers, he wanted to be full of his cock.

“Later, later,” Hughie mewled, pawing at Butcher’s shoulder. “Fuck me, fuck me now.” 

Butcher cursed. He pulled his fingers out of Hughie, too fast, and reached for something in his pockets. Hughie hissed at the sudden loss. He hated the emptiness the most. He whined while Butcher fumbled with the condom, tearing it open and rolling it down his shaft. Then the head of his cock was pressing into Hughie and Butcher had wrapped his lubed hand around Hughie’s dick. Both of them groaned when Butcher slid into him, the two finally joined, pressed against each other, whole. Their cheeks rubbed against each other. Hughie was too overwhelmed to kiss. He liked now that Butcher was right there though. 

Butcher pulled back and fucked into him, deep press of hips against one another. They worked together to get each other off. Their fucking was loud, fast, powerful. It always was, but tonight it was charged in a way that made Hughie see stars and Butcher groan in his ear. Their hips snapped at each other. Hughie’s ass clenched whenever Butcher twisted his wrist on a stroke. Hughie’s hands were curled through Butcher’s hair, jerking him closer, keeping Butcher pressed against him.

“You should really know better,” Butcher growled in between thrusts. “Never do that again.”

“I won’t,” Hughie panted, eyes squeezed shut.

“You’re right it you fucking won’t,” Butcher told him. “‘Cause you’re mine, you’re fucking mine. No one else’s. Mine.” Butchers teeth dragged along Hughie’s throat, a warning. Hughie keened. 

Fuck, he was going to cum any second now if Butcher kept that up. Fuck. “Fuck.” Hughie’s hands fell from Butcher’s hair to his shoulders, head pressed to glass.

“I want you to say it,” Butcher continued, hand wrapping around Hughie’s dick. Holy fucking shit. “Say it, Hughie.” He tightened his grip around the base.

“Yours, yours!” Hughie cried, trying to ride Butcher as hard as possible, trying to get him to stroke his dick. Trying to cum.

“Good boy.” Butcher kissed him, hand relaxing, and Hughie was done for, cumming all over Butcher’s leather jacket and crying out like there was no tomorrow. He thought he’d actually died then. There was no better high in life than this. Nothing compared. 

Butcher came soon after that, head burrowed in Hughie’s neck. They were tangled together, completely surrounded by one another. Their breathing was harsh, then smooth, then the same. Their arms stayed around each other, their hips flushed. Butcher kissed Hughie’s neck for a while then looked at him. They stared at one another, trapped in their moment. Butcher’s face was soft, smoothed from any worry, relaxed. His eyes were a dark brown, warm tonight. He looked younger than he was. Butcher leaned down and kissed him on the lips, soft this time, a gentle press against one another. 

Hughie melted with it, eyes falling shut. He wanted to stay like this, stay in this moment. Something had shifted between the two of them. Something had to have. Hughie wanted to stay in this gooey feel-good state forever. He wanted to stay here with Butcher. 

He never wanted to move again. 

**Author's Note:**

> I actually didn’t think I’d write all of this in a day but here I did!!!
> 
> Fucking Kevin AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH
> 
> I hope this meets expectations


End file.
